


Of Enchanted Eggs

by Lumelle



Series: Furs and Feathers [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Animal Traits, Animal Transformation, Dwarf Courting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Stone Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli, being the thoughtful and eager suitor that he is, makes Tauriel a gift. And a pretty gift it is, too, for all that stone carving isn't his strongest craft by far.</p><p>Sometimes, though, a gift crafted with love can be even more amazing than one expects. Tauriel certainly thinks so when what she thought was solid stone seems determined to hatch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Enchanted Eggs

Kíli was not a stonecarver, not as such.

Oh, he knew the basics, just as he knew the basics of many other crafts. He'd given his parents and uncle quite some trouble as they tried to lead him to a suitable craft in his younger years, each teaching him their own craft before turning to other friends and family for help. As a result he could do a little bit of a lot of things, some more than others. He was passable enough as a smith to help his uncle when need be, knew enough of goldsmithing to comment on Fíli's designs, and made a decent enough tinkerer that he might have made himself a trade out of it if he'd had no other option. None of those was his heart's craft, though, and carving stone wasn't that, either. But sometimes, a dwarf had to be flexible.

It wasn't like Erebor didn't have the materials, or he didn't have the motivation. He hadn't had the chance to indulge in his craft since before the journey, of course, but he was rather eager to get back to it. However, much though he might have wished otherwise, the glass furnaces were rather low on the list of things to be repaired in the mountain, so for now, he was stranded with nothing else to do. Hence, stone carving.

It had been a while since he had worked with pure stone, but after a couple of false starts he was pleased to find he remembered the basics well enough. He had found the perfect piece of stone, a lovely white with dark speckles that he could polish to a sheen once he was done carving. Kíli was sure most dwarves could have named the actual stone, whether it had to do with their main craft or not, but then he had never been a typical dwarf, nor was his gift a typical one. What he did know was that this was the perfect colour for his gift, and that was all that mattered.

For such a simple piece he was spending an awful lot of time on this. He kept reconsidering his plans, drafting again and again the perfect size and shape, very nearly tossed the whole thing and abandoned his work before carefully taking the half-finished piece and continuing to work on it with even finer tools. He drafted the shape on the different sides of the rock, carved out the general shape before chipping out the worst edges, worked out any remaining bumps and unevenness before bringing the whole thing to a proper polish. He didn't keep track of the time he spent on his project, only knowing that he returned to it on many evenings, enduring his brother's good-natured teasing or Thorin's knowing huffs. It didn't matter what they thought, not as long as they didn't try to stop him or spread the secret.

At last, though, he was done, knew he could not make this any better no matter how much time he spent on it. With a satisfied smile he slipped his offering into a small pouch, ran a hand over his hair to at least pretend to be presentable, and all but skipped out of the corner he'd claimed as his work space.

Thankfully Tauriel wasn't too hard to find. Thorin had grudgingly allowed her to stay in the mountain, but she still spent most of her time outside it, helping out in Dale or traversing the mountainside. It was understandable, really; a bird would hardly feel comfortable trapped inside a mountain all the time. Kíli himself often felt the overwhelming need to get outside and just run as far as he could, and at least wolves were quite happy in caves.

She was outside now, sitting on a stone not far from the gates of Erebor and gazing out toward Dale. She must have heard Kíli approaching, as she turned before he even reached her, smiling at him. How she did that, he didn't know. She didn't even have any sort of visible ears, just feathered spots at the sides of her head that she assured him did the same thing, and yet her hearing was better than what most dwarves could ever boast.

"Kíli." She smiled, standing up to meet him. "I was starting to think you had tired of me, since I have not seen much of you lately."

"Never!" Oh, Mahal, he hadn't even thought of that! "I'm sorry, I never wanted you to think that! I was just working on something and, well, I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Fret not, my dear dwarf, your brother told me you had your reasons for not being around." Tauriel's lips twitched into an even warmer smile. "There was some snickering involved, so I knew he was not just covering up for your neglect."

"I suppose I'll have to thank Fíli for that." And oh, wouldn't Fíli be happy about that. "I… well, I suppose I should just tell you." He drew a deep breath. "I was making a gift for you."

"Oh?" Tauriel blinked. "And what is it?"

"It's, well, it's kind of traditional. The act of making and giving a gift, that is. A dwarf can't really consider themselves to be courting unless they've given their intended a gift, and I'd rather like to court you. Except I can't do anything with my actual craft yet, not with the furnaces in such disrepair, but I did try my best with what I could do and I hope you won't be too disappointed but if you like it that's okay and —"

"Breathe, my dwarf." Tauriel stepped closer and set her hands on Kíli's shoulders. "You're working yourself into a state and all without a reason. Whatever you have made, I am sure I will love it, because you made it for me."

"Right." Okay, deep breaths. It wouldn't do for him to actually work himself into a fit. "It's, uh. It might seem a little stupid, though, or even too forward. And it's not practical at all, but — I was hoping you would like it." He took out the pouch he had tucked into his pocket, handing it over to Tauriel. Then he stepped back, trying not to be too nervous as she opened the drawstring closing the pouch, peering inside curiously.

Tauriel blinked, turning the pouch over so the stone egg inside rolled onto her palm. "This is…"

"I carved it for you. With my own hands." Kíli licked his lips, which suddenly felt very dry. "I, well, I realised I haven't actually ever seen any hawk eggs, so I asked the ravens, so it might be wrong. It's… I want to court you, and marry you, and maybe one day have a family with you. And I was hoping this could show that, at least a little."

"Oh, Kíli." Tauriel's voice sounded strange. Why did it sound strange? "This is — this is perfect. Thank you, truly. I could not ask for a better gift."

"Are you sure?" No, he could not stop worrying just yet. "Because if there's something else you'd prefer instead, just say the word. And not just as a gift, I know you don't have much belongings since you kind of left the forest in a hurry. There isn't that much I can do with my craft, but if there's anything you need or want —"

"I am well taken care of already, but thank you." Tauriel stepped closer and leaned in for a soft, quick kiss. "I would not lie just to make you feel better, I promise. When I say I love the gift, that is the truth. It is thoughtful and beautiful and shows your feelings for me, and I cannot imagine how I could wish for anything more."

"I'll still be making more gifts for you, though." His ears were perking up again, though, and he no more felt quite so much like hiding his tail between his legs. "I mean, I'm a dwarf. Making gifts for our loved ones is what we do."

"Somehow, I think I will be able to survive that." Tauriel smiled, then gave him another kiss, the egg still hidden in her hand.

Kíli was by no means too old to wag his tail in excitement.

*

Something strange was going on, Tauriel was sure of it.

At first, she hadn't paid much attention to it. She kept Kíli's gift with her at all times, tucked away somewhere on her person, and really, it was only natural that it would be warm from spending so much time near her skin. So when she sometimes took the little stone egg into her hand to look at it, she didn't find it strange at all that it would seem slightly warm instead of the coldness she would have expected from what was, essentially, a very nicely polished piece of rock. Nothing strange at all about that.

Then, however, she noticed the change in weight.

It was subtle at first, and not really something she paid much attention to. She didn't hold the stone that often, after all, and the size stayed the same, so she didn't notice the light shift at first. Then, however, the difference became more noticeable, enough so that she could easily tell it when she held it in her hand. Somehow, though she did not know how, the stone was getting lighter.

This seemed strange, and certainly not like something that should have been happening. She almost asked Kíli, for all that she doubted he would have an answer, then decided against it. He would probably decide it was her way of saying there was something wrong with his gift, and that was the last thing she wanted him to think. It was a lovely gift, it really was, which was precisely why she wanted to know why it would be changing.

She still kept it tucked away close to herself, often hidden inside her tunic. For some reason it felt even more important than before for her to keep it as near to her as possible.

It was a few weeks after his gift, when she still wondered how best to bring up her strange observations, when her little problem decided to solve itself. She was spending time with her dwarves, so to speak, sitting with most of the Company in the common room they had claimed for their unoccupied evenings. At the moment Fíli and Kíli were bickering, seemingly on the verge of turning their argument into an actual tumble on the floor. Tauriel was just weighing the benefits of interfering versus letting them sort things out between themselves and watching the show when she felt something strange.

Something had just poked at her. Underneath her tunic, even. Under her bodice, to be precise.

She frowned, bringing a hand up to her chest. Perhaps she'd gotten something stuck on her clothes that was now scratching her? Except she couldn't think of anything that might have done so. She hadn't even really been out of the mountain today, having spent the day helping Ori, Bilbo, and Balin sort out the very few works in the old royal library that were actually written in Elvish. Besides, running her hand over her tunic she could not feel anything out of place. Just the usual fabric of her casual clothes, the firmer form of the supporting bodice underneath, and —

The egg. The egg, Kíli's gift to her, which often lay quite securely against her chest between her breasts, kept from falling by her bodice. Except now, against all odds, the egg was moving.

She thought she was imagining it at first. Surely, she had to be, when the alternative was so impossible. However, the small movements underneath her hand continued, now even clearer. The shock had to show on her face, as Fíli and Kíli had paused in her bickering, both turning their attention to her.

"Tauriel?" Kíli frowned, looking worried, and oh, it must have looked rather concerning, her sitting there with a hand to her chest as though she had been hurt. "Is everything all right?"

"I — I'm not sure." Deciding that propriety could stand to be left aside for now, she slid a hand inside her tunic from above, studiously ignoring the way both the princes were still staring at her, a couple of the other dwarves turning towards them as well. She found the egg in its usual resting place, except it wasn't as smooth and even and perfect as usual. In fact, even before she drew it out again, she could feel something impossible against her fingertips.

There was a piece missing.

It wasn't a large piece, just a tiny little hole on one side of the egg as she very carefully brought it out, turning it over in her hand. What was even more shocking was the tiny little sound she heard, almost imperceptible even for her sharp ears.

"Tauriel?" Kíli came closer now, frowning. "Isn't that —"

"It is the egg you made." She barely dared breathe, cradling the egg on her palm, careful to keep it in the same position. "Except now, I suspect it is something more." Though how that could be true, she had no idea.

"Wait, what?" Fíli rushed to his brother's side. "Kíli made you an egg?"

"Aye, as a gift. Decided that since I couldn't blow glass yet, I'd do a little carving. But what's so —"

"You carved an egg?" Fíli's voice climbed almost unnaturally high, and all of a sudden all other sounds in the room seemed to die down. There had been some chatter going on in the background, before, with most of the Company present, but all of a sudden all she could hear was Fíli's voice and the tiny little sounds from within the egg. "Out of stone? And presented it to the one you're courting?"

"Aye. What of it?" Kíli frowned as Fíli just stared at him, not responding. "What? I'm not that bad at carving stone, even if it's not my craft."

"I can't believe it!" Fíli threw his arms in the air. "No, I seriously can't believe it! You have to be the only dwarf in the history of time itself who has ever managed to carve a child by accident!"

"No I didn't!" Kíli protested, his voice rising as the other dwarves now broke into talking at once. "That's not how it works! You have to carve children in their dwarf form, anyone knows that. And you have to mean for it to be a child!"

"It is true that carving the dwarven form is ideal, yes." Was that Thorin's voice? Tauriel did not look up, now, her attention transfixed on the egg. "However, there have been some rare instances where that was not the case, yet a child was the result anyway. And really, Kíli, you carved an egg, no doubt in colours suited for her species, for someone who wears feathers instead of furs. As a courting gift, no less. How could that be anything but a wish for children?"

"Well, of course I want children with her eventually, I'm hoping to marry her! But surely it's not possible to carve a child without planning to?"

Others were speaking now, she was fairly sure she heard Balin's voice somewhere in there, but she wasn't really listening. Her ears were focused on the quiet, soft peeps from inside the shell.

There was a hand on her shoulder, and she finally looked up. She was somewhat surprised to find Bilbo standing beside her, his long ears twitching a bit. "Are you all right, dear?"

"I — it is alive." And that seemed so very unlikely, yet she couldn't deny the evidence. "Something is alive in here! But — it was just a stone before, I know it."

"I'm sure it was." Bilbo squeezed her shoulder, then sat down next to her on the bench she was seated on. "However, I've heard that dwarves can sometimes be… peculiar." He sounded rather amused at this, and perhaps a little exasperated. "In particular, it's apparently sometimes possible for them to carve actual children out of stone."

"What?" Tauriel's eyes widened. "You mean, when Kíli carved this egg as a gift for me… he somehow carved life into it instead?"

"Well, I'm no expert on such matters, but judging by all the yelling and talking going on right now, the dwarves seem to think it's quite possible indeed." Bilbo nodded towards the egg. "And this one seems to me like rather excellent proof of the possibility."

"Right." And such a lot of yelling there was going on, too, the volume rising to rather alarming levels as apparently everyone tried to get a say in the matter. It was almost enough to hurt her ears. She didn't want to even imagine how it might be to something small and vulnerable that had never been surrounded by such noise before. "I — I think I need air." Air, and silence.

Bilbo didn't even try to stop her as she fled the room.

Much though she might have wanted to, Tauriel didn't head out of the mountain. They were only just heading into something she might call spring, and the evening air was rather chilly on the slopes of the mountain. While that was fine for her, she did not want to test it on the little life in her hands, and hiding the egg back underneath her clothes would probably be a bad idea now that the baby bird inside was reaching for outside air. Instead she found a small ledge above the grand forges, far enough from the noise of the few smiths who worked there even at this late hour but close enough to feel the warmth from the couple of furnaces that had been restored already. The forges had been one of the first things the dwarves started working on, right after clearing out enough space for everyone to live in. Not only did it allow them to work on repairing tools and other necessities, but the forges also provided precious warmth into the mountain in the cold winter nights.

Tauriel leaned against a wall and closed her eyes, cradling the egg in her hands, and tried to think of nothing but warmth.

She wasn't sure how long she spent in her hiding place, but she suspected it had been hours by the time she heard footsteps approaching. Opening her eyes, she saw the familiar form of Kíli hesitating in the corridor leading up to her spot, Thorin and Fíli standing behind him. "So, have you all done quite enough yelling for now?"

"I — sorry." Kíli sighed, running a hand over his hair. His tail and ears were drooping in an almost endearing manner. "I didn't mean to freak out like that, it's just — I honestly didn't think this might happen."

"At least you were aware that apparently stone can come to life." Tauriel herself would not have believed such a thing if she hadn't held the proof in her own hands.

"Aye, but everything I've ever heard said you have to really mean to do that. Otherwise nobody would ever dare carve statues, for fear of them coming alive." Kíli walked closer, crouching down in front of her. "I, ah. How is it doing?"

"Resting now, I think." There was still the occasional little peep, but mostly the egg was silent. She tried not to worry too much. "It's not an easy task, breaking out of an egg."

"I suppose you would know, huh." Kíli reached out a hand, carefully brushing his fingertips along the top of the egg. "It's so tiny, though."

"When I was a child, I saw the remnants of the egg I hatched from. Believe me, it was not much bigger."

"So you actually hatched from an egg?" Kíli's ears perked up curiously. "That's strange. I thought all races gave birth in their normal form."

"That is most often the case, yes, for elves at least; I cannot speak for other races besides my own. However, my mother was injured when bearing me, badly enough that she reverted to her bird form. The healers feared the shift might have damaged me, but instead she laid an egg that I hatched from later." Tauriel shook her head. "Apparently the shift saved her. She managed to rest and recover while brooding, instead of her body being taxed by injury and pregnancy both. They had almost thought her lost, and instead she lived another twenty years still before being claimed by another injury." Which had not been enough, never quite enough, but it had been infinitely better than never knowing her mother at all.

"Makes sense to me that you would be special." Kíli smiled, his hand cupping one of hers, big and broad and warm. "Just like this little one will be special."

"That's for sure." Thorin stepped forward at last, and Tauriel looked up at him. He looked serious, but not hostile, which she supposed was the best she could hope for right now. "That won't make things much easier, though, I'm afraid."

"I did not think it would, no." Tauriel met his gaze head on. "I will do what I must, though." Because there was a life in her hands, a tiny, helpless life who depended entirely on her. No, on them, because Kíli was here too, and for all that he had been as shocked as she was, it seemed clear he wasn't running away at least.

"I rather thought you would." Thorin nodded. "I won't mince words, since I doubt you'd want me to. Those dwarves who are not of the Company, if they hear of the circumstances of this, will want to claim that the child — if indeed a child hatches from that egg — is Kíli's alone. He carved it alone, after all, so it would be his hands and his thoughts that gave it life, and you would have no claim."

"We think differently, though." Fíli's voice was soft. "Kíli may have carved the egg, but it seems clear that without you it would not have hatched. Besides, he made it for you, as a show of his feelings for you. It seems to us that if you hadn't been involved, there would still be nothing but a piece of stone, nicely carved perhaps but nothing else. That makes the situation no different from two dwarves carving a child together."

"And… what does that mean?"

"It means," Kíli's smile turned into a grin, "that whatever hatches from that egg, we are both its parents by dwarven law. And anyone who wants to argue with that will probably have to fight their way through the entire Company."

"I suppose that is better than arguing about it endlessly." Not that she thought Kíli would have seen the situation any differently no matter what anyone else said. "Please tell me at least one of you has considered the practical matters, though."

Thorin frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"If indeed everything you say is true, and everything I've heard of my birth is true, this egg is going to hatch into a little hatchling bird that will soon turn into a baby. A baby which, I might add, will need clothes, diapers, food, and a place to sleep. None of which are ready at hand in a mountain where you only have the Company and some workers, no families with children at all. What are we supposed to be doing about all that?"

"Oh, we didn't think of that at all!" Fíli sounded almost cheerful as he admitted this. "Bilbo did, though, and got a couple of others to work with him. Dori's working on the clothing, and Bofur went to look for a crib, and tomorrow we can go ask in Dale for a nanny goat. It's the usual way of feeding carved children, and I know Iron Hills sent a few along with the first supply caravans."

"Right." That… sounded reasonable, actually. Also horribly, terrifyingly real. "Kíli. Could you take the egg for a moment?"

"Hm? Sure." Kíli easily accepted the egg from her, cradling it in his hand like it had been the most precious jewel in the world. Tauriel offered him a faint smile before she closed her eyes.

She didn't mean to, not really. It was horribly impolite of her, really, and besides it was always such a hassle to shift when she was still inside her clothes. She somehow managed to work her way out of the clothes that were suddenly far too big for her, taking to her wings despite the surprised cries of the dwarves.

They might have been under a mountain but there was plenty of room for her to fly here, the forges below casting enough of a glow that she didn't have to worry about running into the walls or something similarly embarrassing. It was not quite the open sky, but it was quite enough when she needed to feel free and unrestrained just for a moment.

It wasn't a scream, not as such, but she did give a loud cry, trying to channel all of her sudden panic and fear and uncertainty into it. There was no response to it, not one she could hear, but somehow, she suspected a tiny voice inside the egg had answered.

Then she turned back and saw Kíli standing near the ledge with the egg in his hands, the two lions still standing nearby. As she flew closer she saw Kíli's tail wagging in excitement, as though the mere sight of her in flight was enough to make him happy.

Well. At least she wouldn't have to deal with all this alone. And really, she wasn't sure if the sudden surprise was any worse than dealing with all the trouble of actually bearing a child.

Knowing Kíli, his child wouldn't have stopped kicking for a moment, anyway.

*

This was, without a doubt, the most beautiful child Thorin had ever seen.

He was, of course, entirely unbiased. He hadn't seen many babies in his life, not from up close, but most of those that he had seen had been related to him some way or another. He didn't remember much from when his siblings had been so young, but the memories of Fíli and Kíli as babies was still sharp in his mind. Then there had been Gimli, of course, Thorin almost suspected everyone in the mountain had seen baby Gimli at one point or another as Glóin had rushed to show his precious son to everyone. No, he was not biased, because he had some bias towards more or less every child he might have compared this one to.

The baby was somewhat slimmer than your average dwarf babe, but he attributed it to her elven heritage. She had soft black curls all over her head and a couple of wispy whiskers along her cheeks. There were no ears as such, just spots of sleek black feathers on either side of her head, and a tiny feathered tail peeked out from the clothes Dori had sewn for her. From what they could tell, her animal was a raven. Very fitting, Thorin decided, for a princess of Erebor, and no doubt that was why Mahal had decided to grant her that form.

"You've been staring at her for a while now." Kíli sounded amused. "Should I worry that you're preparing to steal my daughter?"

"Don't worry, I know I wouldn't get far if I tried." Thorin chuckled, adjusting the sleeping baby at his arm. "I was just thinking that she's a very beautiful child."

"Aye, that she is." Kíli grinned. "Just like her mother." He cast a particularly sappy toward Tauriel, who rolled her eyes in a good-natured fashion. At least she seemed to know how to handle him.

"I did actually have a reason for visiting, though." As though he usually needed an excuse. He had visited the rooms Kíli and Tauriel had claimed for their little family at least once a day ever since the child hatched, sometimes more. "I just received a letter from your mother."

"Oh?" Now Kíli at least looked worried. "It's… was it bad?"

Thorin chuckled. "She said she's not actually surprised you managed to do this, and in these special circumstances she'll forgive you if you want to have a quick wedding ceremony before she arrives, though she would prefer if you waited for her to be here to witness it."

"That's… much better than I expected." Kíli sounded genuinely relieved. "Actually, about the wedding, we've been thinking."

"Oh? Should I worry?"

"Don't worry, I've tried to keep him in check." Oh, Tauriel definitely knew what she was dealing with here. "It's just… we were thinking we might get married in the elven way for now, and have a dwarven ceremony once Kíli's mother has arrived."

"Right." Thorin made to nod, then paused as he took another look at the two. They both tried to appear relaxed, sure, but there was a slightly shifty look on Kíli's face, and Tauriel was a bit too composed to be entirely believable. "Wait. What exactly does an elven ceremony entail, then?"

"Well, there are some traditions that are usually followed but aren't strictly necessary." Tauriel still held onto her calm expression. "However, as long as the couple exchanges vows in a particular fashion, that is considered binding."

"Particular fashion, huh." Kíli would not quite meet his eyes, and really, that was all the proof Thorin needed. "And let me guess, you'd like the child to stay the night with one of her uncles to give you some privacy for those vows?"

"That would be preferable, yes." Tauriel's lips twitched into a small smile.

Thorin considered this for a moment. Then, he snorted. "You're already sharing an apartment, can't see how it's my business anymore to stop you from sharing a bed. Not what I expected for Kíli when we set out from Ered Luin, perhaps, but then that is hardly the question that matters here."

"You're not opposed?" Kíli blinked, finally looking at him again.

"What am I supposed to say? Clearly you're set on sharing your life with this elf, no matter where that leads. I'm not enough of a prude to pretend most dwarves haven't already shared a bed by the time they take their wedding vows, and as for the chance that you might get her with child, well, a bit late to be worrying about that now." He smiled down at the child sleeping at his arm. "Goodness knows your mother dumped the two of you on me often enough when your father was still alive, for much the same reason, I imagine."

Kíli spluttered, and Thorin couldn't resist a smirk. It was good to know there were still some things his boys hadn't grown out of. Besides, he figured it was fair trade, if was forced to face the fact that Kíli was old enough to be sharing his bed with anyone, never mind the mother of his child.

Tauriel seemed less mortified, though there was the slightest hint of a flush to her cheeks as well. "Ah. Thank you for your acceptance, then."

"My dear, I am a dwarf." And how had the world changed since they set off that he would be saying that to an elf? "Whatever others may say, our family is our greatest treasure. Kíli's happiness is more important to me than my dislike of your kind, now that the gold sickness no more clouds my mind." He moved closer, carefully handing the babe back into her arms. "And this one is quite enough to make up for your lack of beard."

Tauriel chuckled. "That is good to know, then." She smirked. "Can we count on you to babysit one of these days, then?"

"On one condition." Hey, he might as well get this out. "If Kíli agrees to help me think of an appropriate gift for Bilbo."

And hopefully, his gift would not come with extra surprises.


End file.
